


Dimples - Dennor one-shot

by Hana_H



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Denmark is a cinnamon roll, Faroe tired of Norway’s shit, Fluffy, M/M, One-Shot, Short, also on Wattpad, drunk Norway is a cuddly bean, first fic on ao3 so have mercy, under the name Ilikecatsandmusicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hana_H/pseuds/Hana_H
Summary: Norway thinks he can drink as much as his brother, Faroe islands (Andrias), and still keep a bright mind.He's wrong.Short and fluffy Dennor one-shot.
Relationships: Denmark/Norway (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Dimples - Dennor one-shot

**Author's Note:**

> For my wattpad muse, AneRoh :)

“Oh? And what have you learnt from Denmark?”

A simple question.

One query that set it all in motion. 

Thanks to it, Andrias -or, the Faroe Islands personification- now didn’t know whether should he be concerned, or keep laughing.   
“What aaaare yoou-“ his older brother, sitting, or, better, almost laying on the chair next to him mumbled “laaaughing aaat?”

Andrias decided for the latter. 

“Oh, well,” Andrias had replied merely hours previous to this “why don’t we discuss that over a drink?” He grinned, because he knew. He knew he was the one who would last longer, plus, he really wanted to see Norway drunk. His older brother almost never drank alcohol, and when he did, it was always only a very small amount, so you can’t blame the Faroe Islands personification for being curious! Upon hearing the suggestion, the Norwegian considered it for a bit, but decided a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

That depends on what you consider ‘a little’, for Faroe kept emptying his glass and Norway didn’t want to stay behind, thinking that if his younger brother could do it and keep a bright mind still, so could he. That was a mistake.

Andrias absolutely hadn’t expected.. whatever _this_ was.   
“Andriiiiii?” Faroe could only nod at him to go on. Norway petted his brother’s head and sighed. “Your haaair is sooft.” That only added to the breakdown Faroe was having. 

“Oh dear god,” he wiped his tears, “you still want to underrestimate the skills Denmark taught me?” he asked the very drunk man and patted his shoulder. Norway, however, seemed to notice only one of the words Andrias had spoken. 

“Denmark?”

Andrias noticed a strange glow on the other’s eyes. “What about him?”

“Is he here? Oh, god, is he?!” the man suddenly woke up from his letargy and began to quickly smooth down his hair. “Nejnejnej-“

Andrias could only stare at the quick change of demeanor. Before he had a chance to ask what’s going on, Norway grabbed his shirt.

“Do I look good?” he asked in a desperate tone. 

“What the-“

“DO I?!” Norway screeched in such volume the others in the pub started to turn their heads to see the drama. Andrias nodded frantically. 

“Sure, I guess? Just a few strands here,” he replied, gently removed Norway’s fists from his shirt and tamed a bit wilder hair on the top of his brother’s head. “There, better.”   
Norway’s lips formed a tiny smile as he genuinly thanked the other nation, who couldn’t be more shook. 

_Just what in the hell has gotten into him?!_

“So,” Norway spoke, “Where’s Denmark?” He began looking around, as if he expected the Danish nation to simply fall through the ceiling at any moment. 

_Wait... what?!_ Andrias blinked and pinched himself a few times, too, just to be absolutely sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He wasn’t.

“You said Denmark was coming!” Norway shouted at him like a child when their parents didn’t keep a promise would.

“No I didn’t-“ Andrias cut himself off when Norway’s expression changed completely, from sulking to the verge of tears.

“You said Denmark was coming! I want Denmark!” the drunk man argued, his voice cracking at the end of the sentence, which Andrias would’ve found hilarious if Norway didn’t start sobbing right after. “Deeeeeeeen!” Norway put his face in his hands. The yell echoed through the walls of the pub, and Andrias wanted to _die_ , feeling all those looks on his back. 

“Oh, shit, no, bror-“ he tried to calm the sobbing but to no avail. “I could... maybe I could call him up if you insist...” he suggested slowly, running a hand through his own hair. 

The effect was immediate. Norway looked up, eyes sparkling and expression hopeful. “You c-could?” he hiccuped. Andrias sighed. 

“Yeah, but first we need to get you home,” Andrias ordered, paying for their drinks and standing up, moving to help his companion to do the same. However, that proved to be a slightly complicated task, for Norway was swaying dangerously as Faroe led him through the door. 

“Come on, bror!” he carefully urged him. “Home, bed, and, hopefully, Denmark. Does that sound good?” Norway made a purr-like sound. “Mhm,” he agreed. 

_This is so weird,_ Andrias thought as he led hos older brother through the streets, hos arm around Norway’s shoulders, making sure he wouldn’t fall. _At least he’s not crying, though..._

Somehow they managed to get to Norway’s house fairly soon, and so the procedure of trying to get Norway into bed and tuck him in so he could sleep this out began for Andrias. 

“Neeeeeeeeeeej!” the Norwegian shrieked when Andrias did as much as take Norway’s hat off.

“Bror, you’re drunk. The best thing to do is sleep it out, trust me,” Andrias tried to reason, but unsuccessfully. 

“Neeeeeeeeeej!” sounded the very angry reply, and Norway swatted at him. That’s when Andrias decided he had had enough. 

“Hello?”

“Hej Denmark. I need your help. Could you come over to Norway’s, please? It’s urgent,” Andrias said in a single breath. There was a moment of silence, and then

“Sure I guess? What’s wrong?” he sounded concerned. 

“No one died, thankfully,” Andrias calmed him down, “but I might if you don’t come over,” he looked over his shoulder where a sulking drunk Norwegian sat, pouting. 

“What?!”

“Is Denmark coming??” the drunk man asked upon hearing the Dane’s voice. 

“Bror, shush,” Andrias motioned for him to stop talking, yet it only provoked Norway more, for before Andrias could blink, his brother was in his face and prying the phone out of his hands. 

“Deeeeeeeeenmaaaaaaaaaark!” he whined, “I miiiiiiiiiss yooooooouuu!” While Andrias tried to gain back control of the situation, Norway kept whining for the Dane, then tried to run away from Andrias, but slammed into a wall instead. Andrias would’ve found this incredibly funny if he wasn’t the one in charge, so he only facepalmed with a small smile, and took the phone.

“What was that?! Is Norge okay?!” 

“Oh, ja, sorry for that. He’s drunk and in need of you..” the Faroe nation explained while blowing a stray hair from his face. 

“He’s WHAT?!” the Danish nation sounded extremely surprised. “How the hell did he get drunk?! He NEVER drinks THAT much!” 

“He was dumb enough to think he can stand as much alcohol as I can, and here we are,” was the amused reply. Andrias couldn’t see it, but he could swear Denmark was shaking his head right now. 

“Okay, I’m coming,” was Denmark’s goodbye as he ended the call. 

Andrias slapped the laying Norwegian’s cheek a few times, and upon receiving a bitchslap and a pair of violet eyes staring back he found out Norway was rather well. 

“I’ve got good news!” Andrias smiled. “Denmark will be here soon!” Norway’s expression remained indifferent, until he took it in and smiled what was probably the widest smile Andrias has ever seen on his face, and _holy shit, he has dimples. What the fuck._  
Then he passed out. 

Some time later, Andrias really couldn’t tell if it were minutes or hours, it seemed the same for him now, there was a loud knock octne front door, and Andrias hoped it wouldn’t wake the slumbering nation on the couch, but it was too late. Norway’s body jerked at the sound and Andrias internally cursed at the sight of his now very awake brother with eyes as wide as some kind of big-eyed lemur Andrias didn’t know the name of. You get the idea. 

Faroe shuffled from his position next to Norway and made a sprint for the door. 

“Hej, Dadmark!” he greeted, but the Dane simplay asked “Where is he?!” before pushing Andrias away and stepping into the house. Andrias would’ve made a comment about rudeness if he didn’t know Denmark was really worried for Norway, so he merely pointed at the living room’s direction. 

“Norge!” was all Denmark could say before all air was squeezed out of him by a bear hug. Norway didn’t say anything, only cuddled closer. 

“I was so worried!” the crazy-haired Daneexclaimed once he could breathe again, wrapping his arms around the drunk man carefully. Norway laid his head on Denmark’s shoulder and giggled.

_Giggled!_

Andrias legit thought the apocalypse is nearing, and, apparently, so did Denmark, especially when Norway did it once again! 

“The heck?!” Andrias whispered. 

“Hej, Den,” Norway began in a quiet but fond tone. 

“Yeah?”

“I love you!” Norway smiled once again and Faroe was pretty sure Denmark was having a heart attack, because even he, Andrias, the marvellous Faroe Islands, was very moved by the cuteness and pit a hand to his chest. 

The very red-in-the-face Dane was reduced to stuttering mess, staring at the blonde head on his shoulder, and Norway giggled again. 

Andrias fell to his knees, sobbing. “This- this is too cute!” he wiped his eyes, teary one again, albeit for a different reason. 

“I love you too,” Denmark found his speaking abilities after a while of surprised silence.

“You know what they say,” Andrias grinned. “Drunk people can’t lie!” 

Denmark grinned as well, and lifted Norway. 

“Let’s get you onto bed,” he said gently, carrying the drunk nation upstairs. Andrias stayed in the hall, giving the couple the space they needed like a good brother he was. 

“Will you staaaaay?”

Andrias would bet money Denmark’s poor heart wouldn’t survive much more. 

“If you want me to....”

“Jaaaaaaa!” was the answer, and, when the sound of kissing could be heard, Andrias left the hall, feeling slightly awkward, and retreated to the couch, tired to the bone. Even of there would be more than kissing, Andrias wouldn’t mind, because the second his head hit the pillow, he was out. 

Thinking now he can die in peace, knowing his bror has dimples.


End file.
